Second Cello
by September Severtana
Summary: Castiel Novak is fading into the background until he doesn't believe he's worth anything. But, Christmas miracles do happen, and there are angels with and without wings. It's A Wonderful Life AU.


**Somehow, random phrases have the power to generate stories. This is one of those. Enjoy!**

* * *

Castiel Novak doesn't have as much luster as everyone else, and he's okay with that. Well, sort of. Okay, not really.

Since he was born, the youngest of six children, he's been the quiet, unassuming member of the family, practically a ghost in fact. Good grades, moderately good home life, a couple of friends, nothing too dramatic. He's member of the high school orchestra, but that's not anything to write home about. Altogether, Castiel isn't a complete recluse or a social butterfly, but he isn't much of anything else either.

On bad days, he thinks the world wouldn't suffer if he hadn't existed in the first place. Of course, he doesn't tell anyone that.

The skies are gray the day before Christmas break starts. The entire school is restless for the day to be over, but Cas has no reason to be. His Christmas day involves being forgotten amidst the accomplishments of his older brother Lucifer or big sister Anna. They both made something big and meaningful out of their lives, and they deserve to be praised, but that doesn't mean Cas ever likes being ignored. He has tried attention-grabbing techniques before, but they always backfire, so he stopped. Christmas is just another day to him now.

It's about 7:00 in the morning when he walks into the relatively motionless school. Only a few other people are here with him, and he couldn't tell you who. The school has too many people. Outside is dark, and inside is covered with Christmas decorations. The radio station that only plays seasonal music this time of year is on full blast in the cafeteria, which is not far down the hall from Castiel's locker. He sighs and puts a few notebooks in his backpack, making sure to grab the one thing he really needs.

Castiel only passes two people on the way to his classroom, the Physics II room with the plastic roller coaster in front of the door frame. They're a couple, sitting closely next to one another and occasionally pressing kisses to the other's lips. Castiel wishes he could say it sickens him, but it doesn't, more like it fills him with sadness that he would never be able to find even that bare minimum of a relationship. But that's alright, he reassures himself. He has someone he'll never give up, too.

Plopped down on the other side of the Physics room door, Dean Winchester, Castiel's best friend, is fixing a tiny car motor. He tends to do that, it like an old habit to him. Castiel remembers the first time he saw Dean, the older boy was working on a 1967 Chevy Impala he had dubbed 'Baby'. It felt like a long time ago, when in actuality, it had been only a few months. Dean had no idea he'd be here this long, but so far, he hasn't left yet. Castiel has a hard time admitting it, but he never wants Dean to leave. Dean understands him better than anyone else in this God-forsaken small town.

"Hey," Dean greets, as Castiel thumps his incredibly heavy backpack down on the desk in the back of the room. "Only a week 'till Christmas! How was that, Christmas spirit-wise?"

"Exceptional," Castiel snarks back, smiling and sitting down next to his best friend. "As you can tell, I'm not feeling similarly."

"Come on!" Dean throws his hands in the air. "You're no fun. Dinner at your house can't be nearly as sucky as you make it out to be!"

"If me, plus a dozen other people who could care less about me and vice versa, isn't a recipe for 'sucky' as you say, then I don't know what is."

"If they are so awful, why don't you just ditch and hang out with Sammy and I? He loves it when you talk science with him," Dean pleads. "I need a friend at Christmas. Everybody does, Cas, even you."

Castiel blushes at Dean's nickname for him. No one else calls him anything but Novak. Well, and the other, less pleasant names. "I'll think about it, I promise."

Dean grins brightly. "Good. That's great. Now, tell me all about the strings concert tonight."

Castiel rolls his eyes. "It's orchestra, but technically your version is still correct. I'm playing second cello. Do you know how ridiculous that is? Cellos have one part, the main cello part, and I'm pretty sure the only reason I got picked for a separate part was because the director feels bad for me. Another group of people called me Ghost that day."

But Dean refuses to give in to Castiel's mood. "You still have a special little thing to do, right? And I'll be there, so that obviously makes the whole situation better."

"Yes, I guess so." He pauses. He's tired of being in the background, but he tells himself it's fine. "Now, you need to start complaining about something so I don't feel like a whiny brat."

"You never complain, Cas. It's actually not super healthy to not vent," Dean points out.

"That's true, but complaining should only be done when...well, I can't think of a good reason. Therefore, there isn't one." Castiel folds his arms.

Dean sighs. "Will I ever be able to convince you it's okay to be normal every once in a while?"

"I don't think so, Dean." Castiel gives his friend a look and the other boy huffs.

"Fine. Have I told you that Lisa Braeden is the most obnoxious woman in this whole school?"

"Many times," Castiel replies, face back to a grin.

* * *

The day passes too slowly, school ending no lighter outside than it was when Castiel came that morning. Dean drives him home in his car, the Impala he finally fixed last month. When the vehicle reaches the front gate of his rather large house, Castiel steps out, thanking his friend (it will take a while yet to get used to calling Dean that) and taking his homework to his room.

Luci is home early, he notices. "Hello there, Castiel, my brother. I'm making some hot chocolate."

"Is it that disgusting Mexican chocolate with the spicy pepper added?" he asks skeptically.

Luci shakes his head, an appalled and innocent look on his handsome face. At least, that's how Balthazar has described it. "I would never lie to you."

"That does not mean I would trust you as far as I could throw you," Castiel mutters, heading back to his bedroom. He has thirty problems worth of AP Calculus homework, and the hot chocolate will come back to haunt him if he drinks it. His brother is a businessman used to convincing people that don't like him into buying into everything he says. His assistants are called demons for a reason. And Luci's the King of Hell.

When the sky gets even darker and Castiel's clock reads 6:30, he finally leaves his derivatives and integrals and puts on concert attire, a black shirt, black slacks, and blue tie that he always ends up twisting. His cello, his version of Dean's Baby, is pretty, dark-wooded, and well-tuned. Castiel practices too much, he knows that, but there are some thing he can't help but get attached to.

His parents are absent, as usual, so Dean picks him up again. The people that birthed Castiel are no more family than the brothers and sister that oppress him daily, but it still stings when they are too busy to hear him play. "Dean, I have a question."

"Shoot."

"Did you literally wait here the entire time?"

Dean doesn't look directly at him. "Um...no."

"Dean Winchester! Do you have any food in here? Have you even eaten since breakfast?"

"Um...no to both."

Castiel smacks his friend on the shoulder. "Ow! Have some respect for the fact that I'm giving you a ride!" Dean protests.

"You're too much of a gentleman to let me walk through the snow alone with Meg trailing behind me like a lost puppy."

Dean holds up a hand. "Is it okay to find the fact that you named your cello, your beloved instrument of wonderfulness, after your childhood stalker?"

"It is, however, it isn't the name that I have the quarrel with, but rather, the person." Castiel motions forward. "Come on, drive. I'll be late in a few minutes."

The roads are icy and Castiel warns Dean several times to drive slower, but his friend reassures him multiple times that he's perfectly safe. Of course, that doesn't make him feel any better. He's always scared that Dean will kill himself in a car crash with the speed and sometimes drunken state in which he drives. Castiel hates some of Dean's learned habits, especially when one or both of them are endangered.

With every second that passes with Dean's enthusiastic singing and Castiel's restlessness, the latter can hear the sliding of the tires on the shiny, seemingly safe street. The brakes aren't making good sounds on the pavement, and the skies are getting darker and darker, and one minute of time has Castiel feeling completely numb. If he died on the road, at least he'd be with Dean and his cello. What more could he expect out of his life but a young death and a single mourner?

* * *

Gabriel, the newest member of Heaven, watches the scene play out from above. He doesn't really understand what he's supposed to be doing here, but Michael's there to back him up. "To get your wings, you have to convince Castiel to live. He's important, more than he ever considered. The car will crash soon, but until then, you need to do some studying. Sound good?"

The young almost-angel nods. "Got it." Images begin to flood his vision as soon as Michael finishes talking.

 _Castiel Novak is eight years old, playing with a few boys his age that don't know who his brothers are. It's winter, and there's a makeshift skating rink on top of the frozen-over lake. The boys laugh and play near the lake, but finally one of the bolder ones starts slipping ungracefully over the glistening white ice. Castiel watches for a few minutes, cautiously walking towards the skating rink when all but two boys are on the frozen lake._

 _The boldest boy finds a thin part of the ice soon after Castiel joins the fun, and makes a game out of nearly breaking the fragile, glass-like substance. When he finally does, Castiel rushes forward, hearing the cracking sound and thinking right then that it reminded him of the scary thunderstorms when no one would come to save him. The bold boy struggles in the freezing water for a little while, some of the other boys screaming for adults, but Castiel knows he can help the boy in the lake._

 _Castiel jumps in the lake himself, trying his hardest to not show how bitterly, brokenly cold it feels, and yanks on the bold boy's hand and body. He braces himself on the remaining sheets of ice and pushes the boy's body out of the water. It takes a few failed tries to get himself back onto solid land, but by then, hypothermia is setting in._

 _Someone wraps the two of them in a blanket, and Castiel wiggles closer to the other freezing body. It ends up being the other boy doing the comforting, like an older brother. It also ends up being one of little Castiel's happiest memories._

The next memory flits across Gabriel's eyes.

 _It's the fourth grade music festival, and one of the adults, probably being paid by Castiel's parents, brings a great deal of food. But that doesn't matter to the boy sitting in the corner of the room. He spots a large instrument's dusty case in the slightly open closet, and can't help but want to see it._

 _It takes a few tries to pull the heavy case out of the tight space and into the room, but no one notices, so Castiel thinks he's safe. With all of his ten-year-old strength, he heaves the instrument out of the case, carefully setting it down on the ground. As he analyzes it with his big blue eyes, he thinks it looks like a rather tall violin. There's a long thin stick of wood with white threads attached to each end of it._

 _"That's called a bow," the old music teacher says with a smile on her face. "And the instrument is called a cello."_

 _Mrs. Harvelle rarely speaks to anyone except to give orders, so Castiel wonders exactly how novel this is. "Can I play it?"_

One more pops up after that.

 _The night is dark when Castiel makes his way home from his umpteenth concert. He often does charity things behind his parents' backs in other towns; Mrs. Harvelle drives him there with her daughter Jo in the back seat. He plays whatever he wants to, whatever mood he's feeling. Castiel hopes he touches people somehow. It's one of the main reasons he hasn't given up yet. But hope would be so easy to lose._

 _Outside, on the road, Castiel thinks he can make out a form on the ground. It's close to the car, and he's sure Mrs. Harvelle is too busy arguing with Jo to notice. He slams on the brakes, quickly apologizing to his teacher's foot which he crushed, and jumps out of the car to rush over to the person._

 _"Are you alright?" he asks, trying to pull the person up, but the man's legs won't hold him._

 _"Damnit, kid! You couldn't have just ran me over?" Castiel sees a wheelchair by the side of the street and rolls it over to the man, who is stubbornly sitting on the ground. Not that he can move far anyway._

 _"No, I couldn't have. Life is a gift, and you can't give it away so easily. You have a reason to live whether or not you believe you do. It may be buried, but that doesn't mean you won't be able to find it." He reaches out a hand to the man, who reluctantly takes it, and pulls him back into the wheelchair. "Now, what's your name?"_

 _"Bobby Singer," the man says grudgingly._

 _"You need some music. Music cures all ills." Castiel pushes the man's wheelchair the rest of the way to the concert, not caring that he's fifteen minutes late._

Gabriel smiles. "This kid's like a guardian angel. How many lives has he saved already?"

"Over twenty," Michael answers. "And there will only be more as the years go on. In fact, numbers estimate over one hundred, and he won't even realize it."

"Wow. That's cool." Gabriel knows that he shouldn't think of Castiel as the little brother he never had right about now, but he can't help it. He's really proud of the kid. "Is there anything else I need to know before I pop down to Earth?"

Michael's eyes flash for a second, looking through memories. "The boy that Castiel saved was Dean Winchester, and without Castiel, Dean would have died many other times. I'll leave you to decide what the best way is to save Castiel's life, but just know, it's not only about him. It's about everyone else as well."

Gabriel salutes the angel and reforms on the street next to the car crash. The Impala had slid on the icy pavement and crashed into a much bigger truck, nearly a semi. The other car should have been crushed, but that stubborn Impala wouldn't have it. Dean is in the driver's seat, head and body slumped against the steering wheel. At the very least, he's going to be in the hospital for a couple weeks. But, Castiel is the one in danger. The windshield has cracks spider-webbing all over it, and soon, the whole thing will shatter, stabbing little pieces of glass through the boy's body. Dean has the steering wheel and most of the dashboard on his side, but Castiel doesn't.

The almost-angel freeze-frames the scene, pulling Castiel's soul out of his body.

* * *

"Dean, watch out!" he screams, but when he looks around, no one is there but a blond man with a small smile on his face.

"Hey there, Cassie. My name's Gabriel."

"What did you do to Dean, where is he?" Castiel asks defiantly, folding his arms.

"He's alright, but you're not. You're also a bit suicidal, which doesn't help anything. I'm supposed to be convincing you to not zone into the upstairs."

Castiel looks at Gabriel in disbelief. "You are here to convince me not to die? Isn't that something out of your control?"

"Usually, sure. But I have to do something to get my wings, and Michael thought you'd be perfect to try this on. Ya see, the world will be a lot different of a place without you in it, and I have to make sure you get that. I'm dead serious here, you're really important, more important than your family or your peers want you to be. Let me just _show_ you."

Castiel stares through the man, who he assumes is supposed to be an angel. Who knew? "If this is all a joke, I will kill you, and no one will find the body."

Gabriel laughs. "I knew I liked you. Come on." He stretches out a hand that Castiel takes. The scenery around them fuzzes, blurs into a few blobs and a few spaces. It's still dark, so the time hasn't changed, but the land surrounding them is empty. The housing developments are unfinished, and the road is worse to drive on than it would have been.

"Are we still in Lawrence?" Castiel wonders.

"Yeah, but it's your job to explore. If you want to go to a specific place, I can zap you there." Gabriel shrugs his shoulders. "I'm just warning you, a lot of things are different here."

Castiel glances over the ridge to see if the town is still there. It is, but it's darker and colder-looking. "Take me home. I want to see my brothers."

He blinks, and suddenly, there is his house in front of him. He sneaks forward, through the oddly uncut grass and snow and pauses before knocking on the door. He knocks three times, stiffly, and stands back to wait for someone to open the door. There is a single light on in the kitchen, but there should be more. Normally, at least three people are awake at this time, and in separate rooms no less.

"If you are selling something, come back later," a tired voice says as they pull open the door to greet him. Castiel can barely recognize his brother.

"Balthazar? What are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" Balth asks sternly in that picked-up British accent of his.

"I thought you were overseas. What are you doing back?"

"Why the hell do you want to know? I don't even know your name." He looks exhausted, like he worked his arse off at work an extra seven hours. Castiel remembers when that was the norm for his big brother.

"My name is Castiel. I was wondering where the other residents of this house are."

Balth glares at him. "Please don't speak my baby brother's name in this place. It's forsaken already without mentioning him. Because I'm a nice person, I'll answer your question. My parents are gone who knows where, Anna died in a gang slaughter, Raphael is in that particular gang, Zachariah is probably gambling away his money or fucking his boss to pay his debts, and Luci..."

"Where is Lucifer?"

Balthazar looks at him in surprise. "He bought the town. He owns every damn one of us, and lets us know every time he can get the chance. Now, what the hell are you still doing here? Don't you have a family to get back to?"

"No. I don't anymore." Castiel pauses. "What happened to your baby brother? I noticed you didn't mention what he's doing now."

Balth doesn't answer for a while. "He died a long time ago saving another kid's life after he'd fallen through some ice. That boy was an angel, and now there's no one left to save us." Balthazar goes off into his own little world after that, muttering and cursing under his breath. He doesn't notice Castiel's still standing there until a few minutes have passed. "Go some place else, kid. Find a group home or something. They're marginally better than the streets."

Castiel's big brother slams the door on him, making the cold air outside seem colder. He feels numb, like there should be feeling in his limbs but there isn't. Moments later, the last light goes off in the house, so Balth must have gone to bed. Castiel turns abruptly 180 degrees and walks back to where Gabriel is standing.

"You heard all of that, didn't you? My family is an absolute mess, Luci shouldn't have that much control, and I'm dead. I've never seen Balth look so tired."

The almost-angel shrugs sadly. "You worry about them, I know. But in _this_ reality, there is nothing you can do about it."

"Subtle," Castiel softly jabs, walking away from the house without looking to see if Gabriel is following him. "I need to see Mrs. Harvelle and Jo."

The streets should be quieter than they are at nine o'clock on a Friday. Normally, people would be at little bars and clubs, but they wouldn't be outside and they wouldn't be making that much noise. It's frightening, but Castiel knows what his brother would do if he ran the town. Instead of seeing the normal bars and clubs, he sees strip joints riddling the avenues like ugly, bright pockmarks. As he gets farther into the downtown area, he finds women and men standing on the street corners with too little clothing and too sickly sweet smiles, and too empty eyes. There's very few places to work that Castiel can see, mostly just promiscuous ones.

He hates Lucifer so much in those minutes. Luci sucks the life out of everything, using it and discarding it. _You can't let this happen,_ a voice in his head screams. He tries not to listen.

Castiel checks the mailbox next to Mrs. Harvelle's house, and it says her name and some unknown man's name. He feels a foreboding shiver creep over his back, but he ignores it and rings the doorbell. He hears a thump and a very male shout from inside before the door opens.

"Hello, how may I help you?" Ellen asks. She looks unsteady on her feet, but not from drunkenness like Balthazar. Castiel wonders if the unknown man beats her. "Are you the escort Ash ordered? If so, we have beer and whiskey, and he's upstairs."

"No, I'm not an escort," Castiel replies in horror. "I came to talk to you and Jo, actually."

"What do they want?" a lecherous, disgusting voice yells.

"Just one of my students," Mrs. Harvelle says calmly back.

"Well, I don't want to hear about it. Go outside if you have to _talk_." The way Ash says it makes Castiel want to vomit.

Ellen apathetically closes the door on her husband and leans her back against it. "Now, what can I do for you?" He marvels at how calm and resilient this woman is, even through all the awful things that should never have happened.

"Tell me how you are. For real, don't leave anything out."

She puts her hands on her hips. "I'm not going to tell you a sob story, boy. God knows everyone in this town has one. Just know that Lucifer Novak is a sick son of a bitch that should rot in Hell for all eternity after being chopped up and thrown to the strays."

Castiel nearly starts at the liquid anger in her speech. "I'm sorry," he says back, not really sure what how to respond.

"Save your apologies for the businessmen and tax collectors. And please," Ellen looks guiltily behind her at this and lowers her voice, "if you see my Joanna Beth, tell her to run and keep running."

"Where is she?"

"I don't know. But I hope it's better than here, or at least not working a corner."

Castiel has been resisting the urge to scream for a long time, but he can't here. "I will, don't worry. Jo is a smart girl."

"Thank you. Now get out before Ash decides to come outside." He turns away, hating himself, but he has to go. Gabriel looks perhaps sadder than Castiel, if he could see himself in the mirror, that is.

Every now and again, when Castiel looks back, he sees Gabriel trailing behind him like a lost puppy. The almost-angel has emotions gracing his laugh-lined face that make Castiel miserable. If this could make an angel sad, what would it do to a human? "Are you okay?" he asks, just to see if Gabriel will look up.

"Nope, I'm not. But we're going to get through this together, you and me. We have one last stop, right?"

"I have to see Dean, Gabriel. If I had this much impact on the town, imagine how much damage I could do in his life. If he isn't dead already." Castiel glances at his companion questioningly.

"Oh, he's alive, alright. He doesn't want to be, though. But you'll just have to see for yourself, won't you?"

* * *

Gabriel watches the too-young boy walk up to the bar he pointed the kid to. He can feel Dean's energy inside; all the survivor's guilt is hanging in the air similar to the cheap perfume all the women are wearing when Cassie walks in. He inspects the place for a few moments, eyes scanning every inch to find his 'friend'. Gabriel had feelings about this kind of thing every once in a while. Dean and Cassie are meant for something.

"Dean," Castiel resorts to calling out, and one of the bar's regulars (Bobby Singer, one of Cassie's saved ones) nudges him to a dark booth. The kid somehow makes his way through the half-naked bodies and liquor to the booth and gratefully sits down. Dean doesn't see him right away, too far in his drunken stupor. These boys are only seventeen, Gabriel thinks to himself. Seventeen years old. It causes a sick feeling to stain him.

"Dean," Cassie says gently. Damn, this hurts. "I'm Castiel. Do you remember me at all?"

The other boy barely lifts his head, but the look in his fevered eyes is enough to break Castiel's heart. Gabriel can hear it from here. _Crack._ "Cas died a long time ago. He saved me, and then he died. I should have died, he didn't deserve that. He never deserved any of what he got."

"It's not your fault I died," Castiel says quietly. "You were just a little boy, you couldn't have saved me all by yourself."

"Yes, I could have!" Dean argues. "I could have saved you, you were small too!"

"Love, that's beside the point. The point is that _it's not your fault_."

"I don't believe you, Cas. I really don't believe in that kind of bullshit anymore. Not even from you." Dean downs another shot, and Castiel won't stop staring at him.

"We've had this conversation before. Nothing that comes out of my mouth is bullshit," he says softly. "Nothing."

Dean looks at him uncertainly. "Nothing? Everything seems to be bullshit these days."

"That's true, and that's my fault. No bull. But I promise you, Dean Winchester, I will fix this." Castiel reaches across the table and presses his lips to Dean's for a split second, making a slight smacking noise as he comes back. "I'll see you as soon as I can get back."

The entire bar went silent for some reason as Castiel walks out, and finds Gabriel pretending like he hasn't seen anything, actually whistling like those people from the cartoons. "Ready to go?" he asks, and Castiel takes his hand.

"Yes. Let's go save the town."

* * *

When Castiel blinks again, everything is much more quiet. Suddenly all he wants to do is go off on a rant. "Gabriel?"

"Yeah, kiddo?"

"What the hell?!" Gabriel braces himself for the onslaught. "That world is sick and twisted and whoever is up top would have to be that way too in order to subject _anyone,_ even for a little while, to that Hell! Those people didn't deserve that, however long they existed! Also, did your boss ever think that I wouldn't stand for this? Did he or she believe that I wouldn't shred them for hurting everyone else that has to deal with the current problems just to prove a point to me? Seriously, me and that person are going to have a serious discussion about what you can and cannot screw up in a heavenly sense."

Gabriel grins. "I knew I liked you. And yes, I do think Michael is a dick sometimes, but he does like you too."

"Should I be insulted?"

"No, Cassie. He heard your little rant, and now, we need to put the beat down on your big bro!" He throws his fist in the air, and then out for Castiel to fist-bump. Cas takes the opportunity, just because Gabriel has the kind of eyes that would convince anyone of anything. Not for any other reason, of course.

Cas nods. "Alright, but first, can you heal Dean?" Gabriel looks down as if he just noticed that the car had crashed and Castiel's body and Dean are still in it.

"Sure. No prob." The almost-angel outstretches his hand and sweeps the whole area. Soon, both Castiel and Dean are uninjured, really they only look asleep, and the car doesn't have a dent in it. Cas smiles and climbs back into his body before Gabriel can pull him off to verbally destroy Luci.

He wakes up just after Dean, who looks worried as all get out. "Cas, come on Cas!"

"Don't yell, Dean. I'm fine." Of course, Dean takes that to mean, 'Please attack me with a hug'. He wraps his arms roughly around Cas and holds him close.

"I thought something bad was going to happen to you and I couldn't handle that. Please just let me," Dean says, a roughness in his voice that Cas knows as well as his cello's sound.

"I'm letting you for as long as you want, Dean." Cas actually curls up into him, putting his head on the older boy's shoulder. Dean is really warm and smells like pine trees and some sort of cologne, like he's been driving around up in the northern states. When Cas looks over in the back seat, his cello is still there, waiting to be played. Second cello. The behind-the-scenes guy that doesn't have too much showy significance. But, he's made a difference in so many people's lives, and there's still more to be done. He wants to stay right here and ignore Gabriel waving frantically out the window, but he can't. He's got a town to save.

"Dean, I really have to go to my concert now. I do mean right now. And, can you unlock the Impala so that Gabriel can get in?"

The older boy shrugs and pulls some lever on the back door of the car, letting a very loud and enthusiastic almost-angel into the back seat. "Hey, kids! Who wants to defeat a demon and beat the forces of evil?"

"Dean missed that part, Gabriel," Cas points out before the boy driving the car can. "All that you need to know," he says, eyes quickly glancing at the celestial being, "is that Lucifer will fall, and then I will perform. Later, you and I are going to have a very important discussion, Dean."

The other boy looks nervous, so Castiel presses a little kiss to his cheek. Dean eventually looks like he got ran over by a zebra for the surprise on his face. "Later, Dean."

* * *

Gabriel is possibly the happiest one in the auditorium right now. Cassie is having a serious conversation with his brother, Dean is still in shock, and the show hasn't even started yet! He could jump for joy!

"Lucifer, I will say this once and not twice. You are a disgraceful human being, a person that I cannot in good faith call my brother because of the things you are doing and the things you plan on doing to this town and its people. The foreclosures, the bribes, the assaults, the moles, the lies, and mostly the way you treat people, it has to stop now. I guarantee you, Lucifer Morgenstern Novak, that _you will fall._ I'm not a fighter, but I will be one if you give me a reason to be. There are ways I can make you lose your prestige and your power, but I won't use them unless you make me. I want you to be a good person by yourself, without legal prodding or threats, because you're still my big brother and I still believe in you. But I am willing to fight for this, Luci. Stop now, just stop, and all of this can be over."

Lucifer also has this absolutely stupid look on his face like a zebra ran over him. He doesn't say anything, Hell, he _can't_ say anything. Castiel Novak is one of those people that can make someone speechless, especially his no-good, douchebag of a role model. "Cassie, I may cry. That was," Gabriel sniffs, "so beautiful."

"You should actually hear me play sometime," Castiel snarks back. "Oh wait, you can do that in about ten minutes."

"Good luck," Gabriel says sincerely. "I hope I can see you again after this."

"All of you angels seem to be stalkers, so I'm sure you'll find a way." Cassie smiles. "I hope I see you again as well."

Gabriel quickly hugs the kid, pats him on the back a couple times. "Anyway, I should probably let you go. Playing the cello is obviously very important to you."

* * *

The concert goes as most concerts do: very well for the audience, but terrible for the performers. "I swear, that glissando was the worst thing I have ever done in my cellist career!" Castiel moans unhappily, dragging Meg behind him. "And the sixteenth notes were an utter disgrace! How can I show my face on that stage ever again?"

Dean stops walking. "What? It's true, Dean, don't try and placate me because it won't wor-" Cas is cut off by a kiss from the middle of nowhere. Dean is currently really kissing him, in a parking lot a ways away from the school. His lips are soft, and he smells good, and it's all Castiel can do not to sigh. Stupid romanticism, but worth it.

"I have decided something," Dean says a little breathlessly once their lips have parted.

"And what could that be?" Cas asks, laying his head on Dean's chest.

"No matter what you think of yourself, I'll always think better, because I love you, and that is exactly how love works."

Cas hugs Dean around the middle. "Merry Christmas."

* * *

Somewhere in Lawrence, a bell chimes. A mother tells her children that an angel just got his wings.

* * *

 **Happy holidays to all! Read + review!**


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